


Not a Saint or a Demon

by Imagines_Dreams



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Suicide, Reader-Insert, and therefore knew the Connor Project was fake, mentions of depression, what if someone knew Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagines_Dreams/pseuds/Imagines_Dreams
Summary: Even though your boyfriend’s parents hated you, that didn’t stop you and Connor from dating. However, when the first day of senior year comes, your life changes forever, and what haunts you is that you could’ve seen it coming.





	Not a Saint or a Demon

**Author's Note:**

> This will have heavy mentions of suicide and death and the grief that can come along with it. If any of this is triggering to you, please, don't read, and my inbox is always open!

You hadn’t seen Connor all summer, so on the first day of school, you were jumping out of bed before your alarm, eating a balanced breakfast, and making sure Connor’s gift was with you several times. You had been saving up your money for that professional art kit he had wanted for two years. It was the perfect plan. It was your senior year after all.

You bounced through the halls and watched for the familiar pale blue eyes and light brown hair.

The bell rang and plucked you out of your reverie.

Maybe he was running late. Just then, you spotted Zoe rushing to her first period. Maybe he was walking. Sometimes, Connor needed a walk to calm himself down. You held his present in one hand and fumbled for your phone with the other.

“Hey, you need some help?”

You looked up. “Yeah, uh, my phone’s right-”

“I got it.” The girl handed you your phone. “(Y/n), right?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah. Alana?”

“Wow, I’ve heard so much about you. Not in a bad way. I mean, some in a bad way, sure, but I’ve never met you. Isn’t that crazy?”

You tried to smile, but it seemed like she was just like everyone else. Connor was known as a freak, and being his girlfriend resulted in some nasty rumors about you. “I’ve heard-”

“I mean, it isn’t that crazy. I’m not sure if we even like the same things. Like, you like student government.”

You let Alana ramble on for a minute. Then, she left, saying something about not wanting to have a tardy on her transcript or something. Once she was gone, you quickly texted Connor. _Missing you. I got you a gift to make up for the weeks I havent been with you._ You clenched your jaw and ran to your first class.

Every second was an hour to you. You tapped your pencil furiously for that one class to be over. Soon enough, the bell rang, and you bolted out of the door. You needed to give Connor his present. It was obvious he was having one of those days, so maybe you could help him. Skipping some classes on the first day wasn’t a crime anyway.

Then, you saw him. Connor’s hair was down, and he was wearing his signature color. However, his shoulders were square. His fists were clenched. His eyes were red. Something else was off, too. A kid you didn’t recognize was on the ground.

Then, Connor’s eyes met yours. Once they did, you rushed forward to hug him or comfort him in any way you could.

He had other plans. He ran in the opposite direction.

You didn’t even pause. You ran after him. You wanted to call out his name, but that would only bring more unwanted attention. You held Connor’s gift to your chest and paused in running. You knew where to find him anyway. You leaned against the wall to catch your breath. When the tardy bell rang, you shook your head and continued your trek to find Connor. You found him under the bleachers as he fumbled through his backpack.

“Connor?”

He jumped up from his seat. “Shit!” he hit his head right on the bottom of the bleachers.

“I’m sorry!” You flew over to him and reached for his head. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?”

Connor hesitated for a moment or two as he contemplated what his next action to be. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath. “It’s great to see you again.”

You smiled. Seeing that he still wasn’t smiling, you opened your arms.

Connor’s lips curled only slightly and he let himself fall into your arms. Once he touched you, he immediately realized how much he missed your warmth. Conner pulled you into his embrace and squeezed you tightly. He took a deep breath and relaxed in your embrace.

You rubbed his back. “It’s ok. I’m here for you.”

He scoffed. “Summer’s been really shitty without you,” he whispered.

“Well, now nothing has to be shitty.” You laughed a little. “Now, we’re together. I’m here for whatever you need, ok? I’ll always be here.”

Connor stiffened. “Yeah. I know.”

Since you’ve known him for quite a long time, you already knew something was bothering him more than usual. When he pulled away, you opened your mouth, ready to ask him.

“You said you had a present for me.”

You blinked a few times. Maybe it was best not to press. You held out the bag. “I saw it and immediately knew it belonged to you.”

Your boyfriend smiled. Both of you sat down on the turf, and he pulled you into his side.

“Someone needs cuddles huh?” you teased.

He just shook his head. “Stop it. I’m trying to open your gift, aren’t I?” He took a deep breath before slowly unwrapping it. When his eyes fell on what lay inside, he froze.

You gulped. Maybe he already had something like it. “If you don’t-”

“You didn’t have to,” he said. He traced his fingers over the box. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Seeing you again, it’s enough.”

Connor bit his lip. “This can’t belong to me.”

You laughed. “It’s a professional art set, Connor. Of course, it does. Every artist needs some good materials.” You smiled. “Although, you definitely do not need professional things for your art to stand out.”

He let out a small laugh. “Thank you, really. It’s been hell without you.”

You let your head fall on his shoulder. “I missed you, too.” With a small sigh, you asked, “So, am I sneaking into your house, or you’re sneaking into mine?”

Connor stared at the ground. “I don’t think I can make it today. Larry’s being an ass and the security is getting tight.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip in thought. “Maybe I could ask them.” Even as the words left your mouth, you knew how that would end up. “I mean, it’s been years. Maybe they’ll let me in the house.”

Connor shook his head. “It won’t work.”

“We could hang out after school,” you suggested.

He blinked a few times as he planned what would happen after school in his head. “Actually, uh, remember that old pastry shop by Griffin Street?”

You tilted your head. “That’s all the way across town. Are you sure you wanna meet up there?”

Connor nodded. “Just be there after school, ok?”

“Connor-”

“Please!”

You flinched.

Connor took a deep breath and wrung his hands. His voice grew softer than a whisper. “Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He looked you in the eye and forced a smile. “Just, please, be there after school.”

You wanted to press the issue. Obviously, there was something bothering him. “Do you promise to talk to me about what’s going on?”

Once again, your boyfriend stiffened. “I promise you’ll understand.”

You nodded. “Ok. Ok, good.” You gripped his hands. “I just care a lot about you, Connor. You get that, right?”

He gulped. “I know.”

You two stayed under the bleachers for a long while. For most of the time, Connor just held you in his arms and tried to breathe as steadily as he could. You snuggled into his chest and held onto his jacket. Both of you just desperately wished you could stay like that forever.

Then, a teacher found you and ordered that you go to your respective classes.

You pulled Connor most of the way to his class. Before you let him go, you straightened his jacket and ruffled his hair.

“What the fuck, (Y/n)?” he laughed.

“Sh!” You continued to adjust random things on his appearance. Then, out of nowhere, You pulled him by his jacket and pressed your lips against his shortly. You pulled away right after and smiled. “Sorry, you’re too cute when you smile and blush, Connor Murphy.”

Connor’s eyes were glazed over, and his breathing turned ragged. He blinked a few times before pulling you towards him and kissing you as hard as he could.

You gasped and smiled against his lips before kissing him back. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tried to pull him even closer to you. Connor grabbed your hips with one hand while the other held your neck as he tried to memorize how it felt like to kiss you. How his skin sparked whenever you touched or how the overwhelming amount of adrenaline made both of you feel like you were on top of the world.

Connor pulled away first and raised his hands so he could cup your cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered, “so fucking much.”

It felt like the air was sucked right out of you, from the kiss, and from his words. You smiled and kissed his nose. “I love you, too. So. Fucking. Much.”

“What are you kids doing?” a teacher screeched. “Get back to class!”

Connor laughed a little. He pulled you in for one more kiss and walked to class. You saluted the teacher and entered your class with a smile on your face.

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. You couldn’t believe that someone like Connor loved you so much.

Lunch passed, and Connor wasn’t present.

Just then, you got a text from him. **Skipping lunch and everything**

**Be at the pastry shop after school**

**Please**

You grit your teeth. _Connor is everything ok?_

**Stop worrying**

**Im fine**

**Ill tell you at the shop**

Your finger hovered over the call button. If you called, Connor would get mad, but would that matter? Connor had had episodes where he was like that. Maybe you were overreacting.

 _You promise?_ You ended up texting.

**I promise**

You took a deep breath. _I love you_

**I love you**

You smiled and went about your day. Finally, the end of school came, and you headed to the other side of town. You searched the shop for Connor, but he wasn’t there. He was probably running late. Convincing Zoe to drive him to you was always a challenge. You clutched your phone and waited for his texts. You reread the words he last sent you and beamed. How was it that that boy was so amazing? It wasn’t even his voice. Those three words were already making your heart race.

Then another notification.

You jumped and opened Connor’s new text.

**(Y/n), I love you very much, which is why i had to**

You stopped reading.

No, the text was too long. No, it was too suspicious. No, it couldn’t be. Why didn’t you see it sooner? You dropped your phone and picked it up and rushed to the Murphy house. He told to you to go to the other side of the fucking town, and you didn’t see it coming. He wanted you as far from his house as you could get. He said that he loved you more than once in one day. He said he didn’t deserve his gift. He was showing all the signs you’ve read about and researched, and you couldn’t fucking catch it.

He had to be ok. He had to be. You were going to find him before anything happened, and everything was going to be ok. You were going to force his parents to give him therapy. You were going to get a job to pay for it. You were going to graduate and move in together and curse at the world together.

Connor Murphy, the love of your life, was going to be ok.

Then, you were at his house. Cynthia’s car was in the driveway, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that his parents banned you from seeing each other. You were going to see him whether they allowed you to or not. You took your key, courtesy of Connor, and stormed in.

“What are you doing here?” screeched the woman. “Get out of my house!”

He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be. You love Connor Murphy with all you could. He took up your thoughts and joined you in your dreams. You wanted to be with him whenever he needed it and when he didn’t. You wanted to hold him and to be held by him. You wanted the pointless arguments and the soft cuddles. You want everything with him.

You rushed up the steps. He was going to be ok. You zipped past Zoe’s room. He was going to be ok. You flung open Connor’s door. He had to be ok.

Everyone heard you scream. “Connor!” You were wrong. He wasn’t ok. He was far from it. You screamed again, you weren’t sure what you said, but seconds later there were people around you. The next thing you knew was that you were kneeling on the ground and the feeling of anger, sadness, and guilt eat you up until you felt empty. Just empty.

He was gone. The love of your life, Connor Murphy, was gone.

You were there when the ambulance came. You were there when they told you the news. You were there when they lowered him into the ground. You were there for him, and it was the cruelest joke you’ve ever been through.

You kept on reliving that day, his last day. You had so many chances. You could’ve confronted him under the bleachers. You could’ve stayed there and forced him to tell you what he was doing. You could’ve called him when he left and asked what was wrong. You could’ve stayed at school a little bit later and get that text earlier. You could’ve run faster. You could’ve done something that would’ve made you seconds earlier. You might’ve saved him. He could’ve been alive.

But, he wasn’t. You didn’t save him. You weren’t there for him, the one time it was most important.

His last text to you was his note to you. According to his parents, he didn’t address one to them or to Zoe. So, it was just you. They unlocked Connor’s phone and read his last text to you because you didn’t allow them to see your phone. The school counselors gave you attention, the same attention every fucking person in that school apparently needed. Everyone was Connor’s best friend. Everyone was your best friend, too, apparently.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you.”

“Hey, you’re gonna be ok.”

“You’ll find someone else.

“We’re having an assembly,” the principal told you. “Would you like to speak?”

You glared at him. He wanted you to give a speech about the boy you loved, the boy you failed to protect, in front of people who thought they knew him a few days after he took his life. DId that idiot know anything about human emotions, or was he just taunting you?

You slipped past the doors and tried to avoid the assembly, but the speakers were telling you exactly what was happening in the gym.

Then, you heard his voice. A stuttering mess at first, then a well thought-out speech that followed. Evan Hansen. Connor’s best friend.

You clenched your fists, and your vision got blurry. You were Connor’s best friend, and you knew for a fact that Evan Hansen was not Connor’s best friend, friend, acquaintance.

You cornered the kid after school. “What the fuck are you doing?” you spat out.

“W-What I, uh, w-what do you-”

“Connor’s best friend, that’s shit.” You towered over the kid. “I’m his best friend and girlfriend. Connor never went back to that fucking orchard, and he preferred a slice of pie over ice cream any day. You think you know him so well from what, huh? From the rumors you hear? Who do you think you-”

“Woah!”

You blinked a few times as a new player came onto the scene. A kid with glasses and a laptop under his arm. Evan Hansen was cowering behind him as tears welled up in his eyes. You almost felt sorry for him.

“How do you know who Connor Murphy was anyway?” the kid accused you.

“Because he loves me!” you shouted. Tears fell on your fists, and it was hard to breathe. He was gone, and you couldn’t get him back. “Because I love him,” you whispered.

His eyes widened. “You’re (Y/n), his girlfriend.”

“No shit,” you muttered.

“Ok, ok, well, we can fix this.”

“Fix?” you screamed. “This guy claims that he knows a guy who he probably never heard about and is getting fame off of his death!” Your voice cracked as you said that last word.

“Well, then, let me explain. Can I explain? Because afterward, you’re going to want to be involved in the Connor Project.”

You scoffed.

“We won’t fake anything anymore if we have you. You know that, right?”

You paused. They mentioned The Connor Project during the assembly. “To keep his memory alive,” you whispered.

The kid nodded. “See, like that. You could do that for us.”

You gulped. Keeping Connor’s memory alive. You could definitely do that. No one would remember Connor as a freak anymore. They could see him as the person he was, an artist with problems and successes. You fixed your hair and wiped your tears. “Fine, but if I don’t like what you say, I’m exposing everyone involved.”

The kid, Jared, explained to you Evan’s anxiety, what had happened in the computer lab, the incident in the principal’s office, and what he had said at the Murphy’s house.

“They invited Evan to their house?”

Evan nodded.

You took a deep breath. They hated you that much. You paced as you tried to make a plan. Going to the Murphy’s house when they despised you as much as they did would be a tragedy for both sides. You wouldn’t be able to look at any part of the house without breaking down. You wouldn’t be able to talk without arguing with them. You wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that that was the house Connor had…

No, you had to do something else.

You took a deep breath. “Who’s in charge of what goes on the website?”

“Alana is,” Jared told you.

“Then, I need to talk to her. I know what to put on the site, and it’s not going to be some emails.” You eyed Evan. “It’s going to be real.”

For the next few days, you spent your time scouring your house for anything of Connor’s, specifically something he gave you before summer started. Once you found it, you sat down and traced his name that was scratched onto the cover. You weren’t going to show them everything, but there were a few things everybody needed to see if they wanted to honor Connor.

You flipped through the pages, careful to not rip or tamper anything. When tears began to fall, you held the book slightly away from you, so nothing could soil it. You flipped through the charcoal sketches. A sunset here. A few trees here and there. A rose bush on one page and a sunflower on the next. However, more than half of the pages were of you. One with hair covering your face as you tried to study the textbook. One where the light of your laptop shined on your face as you scrolled through your favorite sites. One where flowers adorned your hair like a crown.

There was a clump of pages where it was just rough sketches.

“I can’t get your smile right,” he had told you as he threw the book away.

You had picked up his book and placed it on his lap. “Connor, your drawings are amazing, and I still don’t get why you want me to pose for you.”

He glared at you. “I still can’t get it right.” He opened his book. “I would show everyone these,” he pointed at his landscape drawings, “because you know, it looks nice and shit, but yours…” He showed you one of his drawings of you.

You gasped. “Connor, this is amazing.” Your fingers hovered over the drawing, scared to ruin it. “It’s like a photograph, but I actually look great.” You kissed him. “It’s beautiful.”

Connor had smirked. “Do I get a kiss for each drawing?”

“Are you trying to bribe me, Connor?”

“Maybe,” he had whispered as he pulled you in for another bruising kiss.

You wiped your eyes and sighed. No, not the drawings of you. Just the ones that he told you he would’ve shown everyone. The sun. The forest. The flowers. Not you. Just not you.

Plus, it would be one big surprise to the Murphy’s if they found out you were the one putting up the content.

Weeks later, buried in Connor’s old sketches, you scrolled through the newly-redesigned website. Sketches of Connor were everywhere. Alana even put in a link meant for a gallery of Connor’s drawings. Funds for reopening the orchard were changed into funds for the old art museum. Alana didn’t mention your name on the website, per your request, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Jared actually grew closer to you as a friend who helped chose which drawings to put on the website. Evan continued to tell the Murphy’s about the increased interest in The Connor Project because of anonymous help.

Then, something made you snap.

Evan stuttered, “(Y/n)?”

“Evan,” you calmly said, “what is it? Everything ok?”

Evan stiffened. “Uh, I told them.”

“Evan, told who?”

“T-The Murphy’s.” He bowed his head and frantically looked around. “Can we, uh, maybe, go somewhere. Privacy?”

You nodded. You led Evan outside. “Ok, what happened?”

Evan wrung his hands. “I told them I wasn’t, uh, that the letter was, uh, that it wasn’t his.”

“Oh,” you gasped. You reached out to touch him, but you hesitated. How were you supposed to help him? “You need anything?”

The boy shook his head. “Not from you. I mean, I think you need to talk to them.” Evan picked at the hem of his shirt as he tried to explain. “They asked me where I got the drawings from. If they were real, too.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t tell them about you, I swear, but I think they need to, you know,” he cleared his throat, “know. Right?”

You gulped. You knew it was going to happen eventually, but were you ready to go back inside the house Connor lived in? Were you ready to face the people who neglected him? The people who loathed you?

“You don’t have to!” Evan said. “But, they asked if I could bring Mr. Anonymous over.”

You had to do it. You had to face them. You had to tell them about Connor, the true Connor. Slowly, you nodded. “When?”

“Tonight.”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah. Ok. There’ stuff I need to talk to them about anyway.”

That night, you stood outside the Murphy house. For once, you were going to technically be welcome there. Evan was next to you, and his nervousness showed more than yours. “R-Ready?” he stammered.

“Yeah.” You held out your hand. “Ready, Evan Hansen?”

He nodded and took your hand.

You knocked on the door and waited. The door opened. Larry was standing there. His scrunched-up eyebrows and hate in his eyes didn’t help the brick in your stomach. “(Y/n), what are you doing here?”

“You asked for the Anonymous art provider,” Evan said. He nodded to you. “This is her. She, I mean. This is she.”

You smiled a little, while Evan coughed into his fist. “Hi, Larry.”

“It’s Mr. Murphy to you.”

You sneered. “I was the one who provided the sketches by Connor. Whether you like it or not, your son was open to me, and to honor him, I showed everyone who wanted to see the real Connor Murphy.” You smiled a smile that was too wide. “Why? Do you remember him as someone else, Larry?”

Larry’s frown deepened. He opened the door even wider.

Evan and you stepped in before he could change his mind. You sat down next to Evan, while Cynthia dropped her fork at the sight of you. “Evan, I thought you were bringing the anonymous art provider.”

Evan pointed at you. “That’s she.” He immediately cleared his throat and shrunk back in his seat.

You smiled a little. “Hello, Cynthia.” You nodded to the other girl. “Zoe.”

The teenager just glared at you and picked at her food.

Cynthia quickly recovered with a polite smile. “So, (Y/n), do you have some of his drawings with you?” she tried.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?” she asked.

You shrugged. “Connor told me to not show you.”

The woman pursed her lips and blinked several times. “(Y/n), I’m his mother. I do believe I can see-”

“No, you can’t,” you snapped. “Connor told me to keep his drawings from you and your family.” You gulped. “That’s why all of his sketchbooks are at my house, not here.” You served yourself some food. You had a feeling they were going to kick you out, so might as well. You shoved food into your mouth. After you gulped, Cynthia asked, “Why the, uh, art museum? Connor’s never been there.”

You scoffed. “You don’t know your son.” You tilted your head and stared at your plate. “He took me there on our fourth date. He’s been there so many times, the custodian greets him by name.”

She held her breath. “I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know a lot of things.”

“Hey,” Larry pointed at you, “stop talking to my wife that way.”

“Connor was a person. Not a saint or a demon. A person. When both of you realize that, I will talk to you with respect.” You laughed, although there was no humor anywhere in your laugh. “What do you expect from him? Even in death, you put him on a pedestal.”

“I don’t.” Zoe stared at you through her hair.

You took a deep breath. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hate her. Connor had told you about the incidents between him and Zoe. Then, she found out her boyfriend was lying to her from the start. It was hard for her, but she knew Connor better than her parents did. At least, there was that.

You sighed. “I know.” You bit your lip. “Evan didn’t lie about that,” you breathed out. You smiled a little as you remembered what Connor would say about his sister. “He did talk about you, positively and negatively.”

“When was which?”

“Depends.” You shrugged. “He did it with me, too.”

Cynthia tilted her head. “Talked about you negatively?”

You gulped. “Yeah. He had his bad days and good days, as people do.” You turned to Zoe. “I’m sorry for what happened between the two of you.”

Zoe’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

You continued, “His sickness is no excuse for what he did, and there’s nothing I could say to make it up.” You sucked in air before you started again. “But, if you want to know more about your brother as the person he, uh, was, I can answer your questions.”

Zoe had licked her lips. “Did he go back to the orchard?”

Evan bowed his head in shame as you shook your head. “He preferred the art museum or the pastry shop on Griffin.” You gulped down another bite of food. As everyone tried to ignore the deafening silence, your thoughts overtook you. You had been in that house several times, but you had never been there to eat and dine with Connor’s parents. You were always in his room.

“Finally,” Connor had breathed when you gripped his windowsill. He had helped you into his room and engulfed you in a hug. Through your shirt, you could already feel salty tears on your shoulder as you held him tightly. “It’s going to be ok,” you had whispered. You had woven your hands through his hair. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

You blinked back tears and stared past the stairs and at Connor’s bedroom door. “Have you opened it?” you asked them. “His door?”

Larry’s steely gaze burned into you. “Yes. We had to.”

You gulped. “Would you mind?”

“Of course we would,” Larry snapped. “You’re not allowed in this house.”

“Larry!” his wife shouted.

“No, why is she here? What does she know about our son?”

“Your son,” you gently said, “was my boyfriend.” As your voice grew, Evan shrunk back into his seat and teared up.

Larry pointed at your friend. “He didn’t know anything, Cynthia. Why should we believe her? She could be lying. Do you want to go through that again?”

The woman put a hand up to her mouth and cried. Her daughter just clenched her fists as she tried to ignore the scene erupting before her.

You stomped up to Larry, and even though he was much taller than you were, you were not intimidated. How dare he question the relationship between you and Connor. You love him. He loved you. For over two years, the two of you endured the world together, and Larry was demeaning all of that.

“What’s his favorite color?”

“He wore it,” Larry shot back.

Black? They really thought black was Connor’s favorite color? You shook your head. “It was a faded yellow. It reminded him of the yellowed pages in his sketchbook. He wore black so charcoal stains wouldn’t show.”

Larry interrogated you. “Who was his best friend?”

“I was!” You scoffed. “What, you wanted me to say Evan? I know your son better than you do, and you don’t like that, don’t you?”

The man just sneered. “That’s it. I don’t need to put up with this any longer.” He disappeared into his room. Cynthia trailed behind him as she whimpered things you couldn’t understand.

You wiped your eyes. “I guess I’m not welcome here.” You looked back to see Evan staring at Zoe, and the girl staring at her lap, deep in thought. You cleared your throat. “Evan, do you want to stay?”

He shook his head and bolted to you.

“Zoe,” you said, “I meant every word I said to you.”

Then, you and Evan left the Murphy house.

A few days later, Zoe approached you. “(Y/n)?”

You gasped and pressed your fingers to your forehead. “Sorry, uh, bad day.” Sometimes the weight of what happened just didn’t leave you. You tried to force a polite smile. “Yes?”

Zoe pursed her lips. “I wanted to thank you.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, uh, but why?”

“For being with him.” The girl shrugged. “I still don’t know why you did, but it made him,” she stared at her books as she tried to find the right words, “better.” She gulped. “I didn’t know he told anyone about what happened between us.”

You nodded. “He was mad, unrightfully so. He just didn’t know how to handle his anger.”

The girl nodded in understanding. “You changed him for the better, (Y/n). I don’t know, just,” she adjusted her backpack, “know that whatever my parents say about you. It’s not true. You were good for him.”

You took a deep breath. Maybe one day you’d believe those words. At that moment, you kept them in your pocket for future use, when everything seemed ok again. You nodded and bit your tongue to avoid making a fool of yourself and crying in the hallways.

Zoe nodded. “See ya.” She left.

After she was gone, you retreated outside, under the bleachers, and cried. You still felt empty. You still felt guilty. You still felt mad and sad and everything that came the day you found your boyfriend’s body, but as Zoe’s words echoed in your head, you knew that one day, the pain would fade, and you would be ok.

A few years later, you were doing decently, with a nice apartment and a stable job. However, Jared had invited you back to your hometown for a bit of a reunion.

You sighed at the sight of the old art museum. Well, you shouldn’t say that. Newly renovated art museum. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Lame, isn’t it?” Connor had said. He had gripped his hair. “I knew it! I shouldn’t have brought you-”

You touched his cheek and kissed his nose.

Connor froze as his blood flooded his cheeks.

You giggled. “Now, that’s cute. Connor, this is the perfect place for a date.” When he didn’t make an effort to move, you slowly slipped your hand into his, and both of you entered the museum. “So,” you asked, “have you been here before?”

He shrugged. “Once or twice.” He sighed as cheeks finally returned to their pale color.

“Connor!” The custodian waved at him.

Connor glared at the young man, but that didn’t stop him.

The custodian smiled. “Welcome back. Unfortunately, they don’t have any new exhibits since last time you were here.”

You pursed your lips as Connor stiffened and avoided your gaze. You pulled Connor to your side and held on to his arm. You rested your chin on his shoulder and whispered, “Is it bad that I find you really hot right now?”

Connor turned to look at you with wide eyes and a mouth that opened and closed again and again. His cheeks were as red as ever. The boy bowed his head so his hair covered his face, but you had different ideas. You placed your hand on his cheek again. “Hey,” you whispered, “I think you look absolutely brilliant when you blush.” You giggled as the redness in Connor’s cheeks spread to his ears and forehead. “So where to?” You pulled away with a bright smile. “You’re the expert after all.”

Connor led you outside to see the sculptures. “This is my favorite,” he whispered. “Sculptures take up space, like we do, except we search for a reason to be here. They don’t have to. Someone worked to create it, and it ends up being pretty enough to end up here.” He blinked a few times. “Sorry, that sounded so fucked up. I don’t even know what I was saying. Sorry.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “That was beautiful, Connor.” You held his hand. “I think I know why you’re here, though.”

“Really?” he scoffed. “To piss people off?”

You shook your head. “To be an artist.” You giggled when his eyes widened. “Connor, did you really think I didn’t notice the charcoal on your fingertips or the interest you have in different artists.” You had shrugged. “You rambled on about Guy Denning yesterday. I bet, one day, your artwork will be here, too.”

“My art’s not that pretty.” Connor had blushed again. Before you could contradict him, he whispered, “You’re too good for me, (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

“On the contrary, Connor Murphy, I believe you’re too good for me.”

“(Y/n)!”

You opened your eyes and smiled at Alana. “Hey,” you greeted. “Where’s everyone else?”

She grabbed your hand. “Follow me. You’re late, you know. Oh, and you’re gonna love what you’re gonna see. We’ve been preparing-”

“Preparing?” you asked.

She stopped so that you could look around and hug everyone else, Evan, Jared, and even Zoe. “What’s this all about?” you asked them.

Jared shrugged. “Look up.”

You squinted at him before looking at the archway that led to the sculpture garden. You gasped. A picture of the sunset was copied onto the archway. A caption beneath it was Connor’s signature. A plaque was placed by the door, reading, “Donated by The Connor Project. A reminder that you will be found.”

You held your hand up to your mouth and felt the tears coming back. You held onto your friends and continued to stare at the beautiful artwork in front of you. You told him so.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I had so much fun with this one, playing around with Connor's character, his relationships, and the Connor Project. If you liked reading this, please feel free to comment on what you liked or didn't like, so that I can improve my writing! Thank you!!!!


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